


Blink

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 06:12:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16969194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: meeting in prison au (Asked by alternate8reality via tumblr)She wasn’t supposed to have her morning jog until, at least, a couple thousand more buzzes. And she definetely wasn’t expecting someone that would want to ask for a talk to her. Humming to herself, she focused on the door, muscles taut as the door began to open and one of the guards entered, looking as uninterested as they all looked whenever they talked to her.“Swan, visit.”Well, this was strange.





	Blink

 

The light from the bulbs placed high above the concrete walls titillated weakly, the metallic sound that sparked throughout the room one Emma had already memorized and learnt to expect. It hadn’t always been like that of course, when she had arrived the weak blink every other few seconds drove her mad, eyes twitching as she glanced at the bulb, half expecting for it to explode.

It didn’t, of course, no matter how long she stared at it, eyes focused and jaw closed so tightly her muscles hurt when she relaxed them. In time, as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the blinking transformed into a way of keeping track of time, one she didn’t quite like but learnt to put up with. Even if it only was a permanent malfunction on the lamps of her cell. One that it didn’t matter how many times she asked to be replaced; it always remained the same.

Seated as she was, back against one of the walls, eyes slightly closed while she mentally counted hummed again with each buzz, she wriggled her hands together, fumbling with the fabric of her pants as she had her knees pressed against her stomach. Her chest barely touching her legs, so calmly she breathed.

It was probably because of that that her ears picked up the sound of boots scrapping the surface of the hallway beyond the closed door that connected her cell with the rest of the floor. Clinking of keys quickly following through, Emma tilted her head, curious as she felt a ball of anticipation quickly forming on her stomach.

She wasn’t supposed to have her morning jog until, at least, a couple thousand more buzzes. And she definetely wasn’t expecting someone that would want to ask for a talk to her. Humming to herself, she focused on the door, muscles taut as the door began to open and one of the guards entered, looking as uninterested as they all looked whenever they talked to her.

“Swan, visit.”

Well, this was strange.

The face of the guard didn’t truly give anything away, but Emma frowned nonetheless as she stood, slowly ironing her clothes and approaching the guard in what hoped to be a perfect mirror of their blank expression even if inside she felt small sirens going off; alert.

The buzzing of the light grew stronger, blinking momentarily worsening before quieting. Reaching the door, she silently began to follow the guard who kept a close eye on her as she walked past them, not once letting her go out of sight as the door closed once more, the blinking confined to the cell once again.

“Who it is?” She managed to ask, her voice raspy due to misuse. At first, she had tried to talk to anyone who approached her, hoping to, at least, fill her mind with chatter. That, however, had ended pretty quickly as she realized not many were interested on listening to her. Or answer her.

This time wasn’t any different; with only silence to accompany her she walked next to the guard; half expecting to be put on cuffs. Something that didn’t happen, and which only fueled the feeling of uneasiness inside of her.

And when, a few more minutes afterwards she was placed on a room with two chairs and one brunette dressed to the nines the feeling didn’t disappear but morphed. The coiled ball on her stomach growling and changing, she frowned at how the guard nodded at the woman and left, the metallic door shutting behind them with one soft swiss. One that didn’t make her break eye contact with it until she heard the woman sitting primly at the other side of the desk that separated them both clear her throat once. The sound the kind of one used by someone who was used to be respected and answered.

Emma, hands on her lap, back touching the back of her chair and posture as opposite from the other woman as possible, merely arched her brows at the sound, her green eyes raising at the light bulbs on the room as they began to blink; the buzzing sound that quickly followed afterwards making her stifle an annoyed sound.

Another broken light; they should really start working on that.

The woman, who Emma had barely gotten a glimpse as she had entered into the room, seemed to follow her gaze because she hummed, something close to wonder sparkling on her eyes when Emma quickly lowered her gaze. Half expecting to be able to gauge the woman in front of her in that tiny second, she wasn’t focusing on her.

She only had enough time to see brown eyes and brunette locks, gorgeous face lighted in that gleam of interest that, for a second, a beat, seemed to sparkle with purple light. One that was gone the moment Emma frowned, changing her own posture so, maybe, she could pick on that.

Unfortunately for her, the brunette was already looking at her once again, eyes back to rich brown. Hands clasped together in front of her, the brunette made her think more on a politician with that perfect posture rather than the smarmy lawyers she had had the pleasure to meet.

Which was the reason why the first words that escaped her mouth were precisely that.

“You are not a lawyer.”

The woman chuckled darkly and shook her head, her tresses caressing both sides of her face as she moved forward.

“Perceptive.” The brunette’s voice was probably just like Emma had imagined it to be; rich, maybe a little on the deep side, with the kind of perfect intonation and pitch to make her picture endless hours of learning how to. “I’m Regina Mills.”

Sprawling even more on the chair and crossing her arms at her chest level, it was Emma’s turn to hum, her green eyes roaming free over every little detail she could pick from the other woman: From her obvious expensive clothing to the ring that hung from her neck, old and dangling from a golden chain. The kind of one someone younger would have but not this woman whose outfit spoke of someone that didn’t like superfluous or nonsensical details around her.

Rising her chin enough to show a defiance that didn’t quite ring true, not even with the strange pressure on her chest growing with every passing second, Emma nibbled her bottom lip. The name didn’t ring any bell, neither did the surname. And still, there was something there, something calling for her from the deepest part of her brain.

Whatever it was, it made her feel queasy.

“That doesn’t answer what are you doing here.” Her voice didn’t raise as much as she would have wanted but her throat felt raspy still and she couldn’t do a thing about her.

Nodding, seeming to concede her that much, Regina moved slightly backwards, assessing her with piercing eyes that flashed purple for a second time as the light bulb above their heads blinked again.

_Uh_

“Emma Swan.” Regina’s voice carried away as if the behavior of a mere light bulb wasn’t really bothering her. “You were found guilty of theft. Is that right?”

Emma didn’t answer to that, she didn’t feel like she needed to after all. The woman was here, she had called for her. She obviously knew who she was, why she was there.

Sighing, Regina pinched the bridge of her nose and kept on talking, voice more of a whisper, less open and vibrant.

“I am here to give you a deal.”

That got Emma’s attention; it wasn’t like what she had done had been that horrible after all. She had already made her peace with the fact that she was going to spend her sentence locked away. The possibility of striking a deal made her look at the woman in front of her in a different light. A Detective? She suspected not many of those decided to take into an already filled case that didn’t have any dark corners. Just a stupid woman who had thought a man she had known for a few months was the love of her life.

Stupid.

“What kind of deal?” She felt weary and, as she let her eyes narrow she saw a small smirk curving Regina’s lips, chin lowering and shadows running down her cheeks for a moment.

The light bulb pulsed again, and Emma pressed the tips of her fingers against her forearms. There was something she wasn’t seeing.

“Your freedom.” The brunette replied. “I have someone that would be very interested on knowing about this man you told the police about. This…”

“Neal, Neal Cassidy.”

Regina nodded, and Emma wondered if she hadn’t already known that. She probably had.

Growling minutely, she dragged the chair closer to the table, the screeching sound elicited by it being answered with an arch from the other woman’s right brow; obviously not impressed.

“I told them everything I knew. If he has problems I don’t know where to find him or where to start.”

Which was true. And yet.

And yet the woman was still eyeing her as if she knew something more about Emma, something the blonde couldn’t know what it was but still made her like squirming; bolt.

“We think differently.” The brunette’s voice was back to that perfect pitch, one that seemed manufactured even more so now and yet it also echoed true on Emma’s gift; not a lie on her words or the intent behind them.

Baring her teeth, Emma shook her head, briskly.

“Why?” It wasn’t quite the question she had wanted to ask but her mind seemed to be on autopilot at the moment.

“Let’s call it a hunch.”

Emma didn’t like this, any of this. And yet she felt herself going back time and again to the “deal” word, to the opportunity to leave her cell, the boredom, the memories behind.

Sucking on her teeth, she nodded curtly, once.

“Deal.”

Regina’s smirk only grew wider at that and, before Emma could truly do a thing to stop her, she rose her right hand and snapped her fingers, purple smoke filling the room in a second, smoke that quickly covered Emma’s entire body, tendrils of it reaching through her clothes, embedding themselves into the skin.

“What the f…”

And, in a flash, the room was empty, devoid of any of them, the light on the room stilling once more. Blinking gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm evil. Yes, this is a one shot. You can come and yell at me ;)


End file.
